BURNING UP

Thunder slammed through the castle, waking the disciple with a flinch. A discomforting sensation radiated through his body, pulsating with oppressive heat.

Blinking the dream away, he saw Wyn's concerned face looking down at him. It took him a moment to realize that his head was resting on the snow deity's lap, but it almost felt too heavy to lift.

Marshall cracked a smile and teased in a hoarse voice, "Are you my personalized pillow?" 

"For tonight," Wyn flipped the damp cloth on Marshall's forehead, which the latter hadn't noticed until it was moved. 

The disciple's brow raised in question, and the snow deity must have interpreted it as confusion about the proximity because he quickly justified himself. "You kept moving in your sleep, and it looked like you were going to fall off the bench. That is why I am sitting here."

"You didn't have to," Marshall mumbled, leaning into the cool cloth despite himself. Then he glanced up and pulled the piece of fabric over his eyes.

Wyn tried to fix the cloth back to its place, but it was stubbornly pulled back down. After a short episode of tug-and-pull, he left it alone and Marshall let out a victorious snicker.

It became quiet again, which led Wyn to think the disciple had fallen back asleep. He let out a slow sigh and turned his head to look at the window behind, listening to the sound of the gusts of winds rattling the old frames. The raindrops trickled over the stained glass in little streams.

Then, an energetic tone interrupted the peace anew, "Good thing we didn't catch the rain, eh?"

Marshall pushed himself up, his hair sticking out in unusual directions. After removing the damp cloth, he realized that was actually a bandage. It was no wonder the smell of it was so clean. Then again, Wyn always smelled clean. Fresh snow and pine. It couldn't get cleaner than that.

A few candles flickered nearby, their warm glow interrupted by flashes of lightning. Marshall reached for one of them, stumbling up.

"Where are you going?" the snow deity stood up as well.

"Bathroom," he replied, moving towards the hallway with a candle in hand. "I'll be right back."

Steady steps trailed right behind, staying close. He cast a glance back at Wyn. "Why are you following me? I'm not going to drop somewhere on the way, you know."

Wyn fell in stride next to Marshall. "I am terribly afraid of the dark. Absolutely cannot stay alone," he said with a serious expression, then smiled a little to let the other know it was a joke.

Marshall shook his head, letting out a scoff, "You call my jokes absurd, but yours aren't any better," he murmured with an teasing smile. His steps felt heavier than usual, as if the pull of gravity had increased and the the world had fallen into a light spin.

There was a lazy part of him that wanted to drape his arms over Wyn's shoulders and make the snow deity drag him the rest of the way. The corners of his lips curled upward as he imagined it. It would've been fun, but he wouldn't dare.

The candlelight danced across Marshall's face, casting a warm, flickering light. Wyn looked at him unnoticeably, admiring the sleepy features. The ever-present smirk and the slight squint of his eyes made it clear to Wyn that the disciple was thinking about something silly, but he didn't comment on it.

As they finally reached the bathroom, Marshall set the candle on the old sink, letting out a complaining groan, "Why does the bathroom have to be so far?"

Wyn looked at him with a quirked eyebrow, "It is not that far of a walk."

Marshall sent him an unimpressed look, the brief grimace coming across as endearing in the candlelit bathroom with reflections of flames glimmering on the tiles around him. 

The disciple leaned over the sink, wiping down the the mirror on the wall. Once he saw his reflection, he frowned and tried to pat down his tangled curls. Did he roll through a forest or something?

Wyn's lips curled at the corners as he stepped closer, reaching out, "May I?"

Marshall tensed for a bit but gave a nod, letting him do whatever he wanted. Since the snow deity offered it first, it was alright to be shameless. 

He stared at Wyn's reflection in the mirror, working with a calm expression. Marshall's cheeks felt hotter than before, the world dancing around him. This feeling was strange. He had never been sick like this before.

The snow deity moved gently, his fingers untangling the knots with ease. The soft touch of his hand against Marshall's hair sent a shiver down the disciple's spine.

"Hey, Wyn," Marshall mumbled, looking at the other's reflection in the mirror. "I was wondering, is it even possible for you to get sick?"

Wyn gave a light nod with an amused undertone. "I may be immune to the cold, but I am not immune to bacterial diseases."

"But since you have spiritual frost, if you get a fever, you can cool it down yourself, right?" Marshall wondered.

"Simply put, yes," Wyn replied, slowly pulling apart a stubborn knot in Marshall's hair.

The disciple winced and his breath hitched when the snow deity tugged at it, yet he could feel his heartbeat quicken in his chest, not sure why. A tingling sensation was left behind, strange but not unpleasant.

Marshall found himself unable to keep his own gaze from lingering on the other's reflected features. The soft candlelight danced over the snow deity's face, casting a warm, golden glow over his hair and making the air around him seem to shimmer. 

His eyes traced the curves of Wyn's lips, feeling something stirring in his chest. Catching himself, he quickly averted his eyes and shook his head lightly to distract himself. 

"What is it?" the snow deity asked, glancing at Marshall's reflection in the mirror.

"Just... felt a bit dizzy for a moment," Marshall served an excuse with an awkward chuckle.

Wyn's eyes narrowed. He placed the back of his hand against Marshall's forehead, then his cheek. "Are you cold?"

The disciple was anything but cold. He might've as well been set on fire or plunged into a pool of lava. Drops of sweat soaked into his collar.

"Not at all," he murmured.

Wyn gave a nod, but still said, "You should go back to sleep. Finish your business and come out. I will wait behind the door."

Marshall watched the door shut behind the snow deity, then exhaled a sigh and splashed his face with some cold water from the basin. 

He leaned on the sink with both hands and took a few more deep breaths, trying to steady himself. His reflection stared back eerily, his hair looking better now, but his face embarrassingly flushed.

"Like a damn lobster," Marshall mumbled under his breath, trying to wipe the red off his cheeks. "Have some dignity."

Whatever had caused him to act weird, he wasn't going to deal with it now. Not tonight. Possibly not ever. With a final questioning, mocking glance to his reflection, he turned away.